The family of Cato derived its first lustre from his great-grandfather
Cato, whose virtue gained him such great reputation and authority among
the Romans, as we have written in his life.

This Cato was, by the loss of both his parents, left an orphan,
together with his brother Caepio, and his sister Porcia. He had also a
half-sister, Servilia, by the mother's side. All these lived together,
and were bred up in the house of Livius Drusus, their uncle by the mother,
who, at that time, had a great share in the government, being a very eloquent
speaker, a man of the greatest temperance, and yielding in dignity to none
of the Romans.

It is said of Cato that even from his infancy, in his speech, his
countenance, and all his childish pastimes, he discovered an inflexible
temper, unmoved by any passion, and firm in everything. He was resolute
in his purposes, much beyond the strength of his age, to go through with
whatever he undertook. He was rough and ungentle toward those that flattered
him, and still more unyielding to those who threatened him. It was difficult
to excite him to laughter, his countenance seldom relaxed even into a smile;
he was not quickly or easily provoked to anger, but if once incensed, he
was no less difficult to pacify.

When he began to learn, he proved dull, and slow to apprehend,
but of what he once received, his memory was remarkably tenacious. And
such in fact, we find generally to be the course of nature; men of fine
genius are readily reminded of things, but those who receive with most
pains and difficulty, remember best; every new thing they learn, being,
as it were, burnt and branded in on their minds. Cato's natural stubbornness
and slowness to be persuaded may also have made it more difficult for him
to be taught. For to learn is to submit to have something done to one;
and persuasion comes soonest to those who have least strength to resist
it. Hence young men are sooner persuaded than those that are more in years,
and sick men, than those that are well in health. In fine, where there
is least previous doubt and difficulty, the new impression is most easily
accepted. Yet Cato, they say, was very obedient to his preceptor, and would
do whatever he was commanded; but he would also ask the reason, and inquire
the cause of everything. And, indeed, his teacher was a very well-bred
man, more ready to instruct than to beat his scholars. His name was
Sarpedon.

When Cato was a child, the allies of the Romans sued to be made
free citizens of Rome. Pompaedius Silo, one of their deputies, a brave
soldier and a man of great repute, who had contracted a friendship with
Drusus, lodged at his house for several days, in which time being grown
familiar with the children, "Well," said he to them, "will you entreat
your uncle to befriend us in our business?" Caepio, smiling, assented,
but Cato made no answer, only he looked steadfastly and fiercely on the
strangers. Then said Pompaedius, "And you, young sir, what say you to us?
will not you, as well as your brother, intercede with your uncle in our
behalf?" And when Cato continued to give no answer, by his silence and
his countenance seeming to deny their petition, Pompaedius snatched him
up to the window as if he would throw him out, and told him to consent,
or he would fling him down, and, speaking in a harsher tone, held his body
out of the window, and shook him several times. When Cato had suffered
this a good while, unmoved and unalarmed, Pompaedius, setting him down,
said in an undervoice to his friend, "What a blessing for Italy that he
is but a child! If he were a man, I believe we should not gain one voice
among the people." Another time, one of his relations, on his birthday,
invited Cato and some other children to supper, and some of the company
diverted themselves in a separate part of the house, and were at play,
the elder and the younger together, their sport being to act the pleadings
before the judges, accusing one another, and carrying away the condemned
to prison. Among these a very beautiful young child, being bound and carried
by a bigger into prison, cried out to Cato, who seeing what was going on,
presently ran to the door, and thrusting away those who stood there as
a guard, took out the child, and went home in anger, followed by some of
his companions.

Cato at length grew so famous among them, that when Sylla designed
to exhibit the sacred game of young men riding courses on horseback, which
they called Troy, having gotten together the youth of good birth, he appointed
two for their leaders. One of them they accepted for his mother's sake,
being the son of Metella, the wife of Sylla; but as for the other, Sextus,
the nephew of Pompey, they would not be led by him, nor exercise under
him. Then Sylla asking whom they would have, they all cried out, Cato;
and Sextus willingly yielded the honour to him, as the more
worthy.

Sylla, who was a friend of their family, sent at times for Cato
and his brother to see them and talk with them; a favour which he showed
to very few, after gaining his great power and authority. Sarpedon, full
of the advantage it would be, as well for the honour as the safety of his
scholars, would often bring Cato to wait upon Sylla at his house, which,
for the multitude of those that were being carried off in custody, and
tormented there, looked like a place of execution. Cato was then in his
fourteenth year, and seeing the heads of men said to be of great distinction
brought thither, and observing the secret sighs of those that were present,
he asked his preceptor, "Why does nobody kill this man?" "Because," said
he, "they fear him, child, more than they hate him." "Why, then," replied
Cato, "did you not give me a sword, that I might stab him, and free my
country from this slavery?" Sarpedon hearing this, and at the same time
seeing his countenance swelling with anger and determination, took care
thenceforward to watch him strictly, lest he should hazard any desperate
attempt.

While he was yet very young, to some that asked him whom he loved
best, he answered, his brother. And being asked, whom next, he replied,
his brother, again. So likewise the third time, and still the same, till
they left off to ask any further. As he grew in age, this love to his brother
grew yet the stronger. When he was about twenty years old, he never supped,
never went out of town, nor into the forum, without Caepio. But when his
brother made use of precious ointments and perfumes, Cato declined them;
and he was, in all his habits, very strict and austere, so that when Caepio
was admired for his moderation and temperance, he would acknowledge that
indeed he might be accounted such, in comparison with some other men, "but,"
said he, "when I compare myself with Cato, I find myself scarcely different
from Sippius," one at that time notorious for his luxurious and effeminate
living.

Cato being made priest of Apollo, went to another house, took his
portion of their paternal inheritance, amounting to a hundred and twenty
talents, and began to live yet more strictly than before. Having gained
the intimate acquaintance of Antipater the Tyrian, the Stoic philosopher,
he devoted himself to the study, above everything, of moral and political
doctrine. And though possessed, as it were, by a kind of inspiration for
the pursuit of every virtue, yet what most of all virtue and excellence
fixed his affection was that steady and inflexible justice which is not
to be wrought upon by favour or compassion. He learned also the art of
speaking and debating in public, thinking that political philosophy, like
a great city, should maintain for its security the military and warlike
element. But he would never recite his exercises before company, nor was
he ever heard to declaim. And to one that told him men blamed his silence,
"But I hope not my life." he replied, "I will begin to speak, when I have
that to say which had not better be unsaid."

The great Porcian Hall, as it was called, had been built and dedicated
to the public use by the old Cato, when aedile. Here the tribunes of the
people used to transact their business, and because one of the pillars
was thought to interfere with the convenience of their seats, they deliberated
whether it were best to remove it to another place, or to take it away.
This occasion first drew Cato, much against his will, into the forum; for
he opposed the demand of the tribunes, and in so doing gave a specimen
both of his courage and his powers of speaking, which gained him great
admiration. His speech had nothing youthful or refined in it, but was straightforward,
full of matter, and rough, at the same time that there was a certain grace
about his rough statements which won the attention; and the speaker's character,
showing itself in all he said, added to his severe language something that
excited feelings of natural pleasure and interest. His voice was full and
sounding, and sufficient to be heard by so great a multitude, and its vigour
and capacity of endurance quite indefatigable, for he often would speak
a whole day and never stop.

When he had carried this cause, he betook himself again to study
and retirement. He employed himself in inuring his body to labour and violent
exercise; and habituated himself to go bareheaded in the hottest and the
coldest weather, and to walk on foot at all seasons. When he went on a
journey with any of his friends, though they were on horseback and he on
foot, yet he would often join now one, then another, and converse with
them on the way. In sickness the patience he showed in supporting, and
the abstinence he used for curing, his distempers were admirable. When
he had an ague, he would remain alone, and suffer nobody to see him, till
he began to recover, and found the fit was over. At supper, when he threw
dice for the choice of dishes, and lost, and the company offered him nevertheless
his choice, he declined to dispute, as he said, the decision of Venus.
At first, he was wont to drink only once after supper, and then go away;
but in process of time he grew to drink more, insomuch that oftentimes
he would continue till morning. This his friends explained by saying that
state affairs and public business took him up all day, and being desirous
of knowledge, he liked to pass the night at wine in the conversation of
philosophers. Hence, upon one Memmius saying in public, that Cato spent
whole nights in drinking, "You should add," replied Cicero, "that he spends
whole days in gambling." And in general Cato esteemed the customs and manners
of men at that time so corrupt, and a reformation in them so necessary,
that he thought it requisite, in many things, to go contrary to the ordinary
way of the world. Seeing the lightest and gayest purple was then most in
fashion, he would always wear that which was the nearest black; and he
would often go out of doors, after his morning meal, without either shoes
or tunic; not that he sought vain-glory from such novelties, but he would
accustom himself to be ashamed only of what deserves shame, and to despise
all other sorts of disgrace.

The estate of one Cato, his cousin, which was worth one hundred
talents, falling to him, he turned it all into ready money, which he kept
by him for any of friends that should happen to want, to whom he would
lend it without interest. And for some of them, he suffered his own land
and his slaves to be mortgaged to the public treasury.

When he thought himself of an age fit to marry, having never before
known any woman, he was contracted to Lepida, who had before been contracted
to Metellus Scipio, but on Scipio's own withdrawal from it, the contract
had been dissolved, and she left at liberty. Yet Scipio afterwards repenting
himself, did all he could to regain her, before the marriage with Cato
was completed, and succeeded in so doing. At which Cato was violently incensed,
and resolved at first to go to law about it; but his friends persuaded
him to the contrary. However, he was so moved by the beat of youth and
passion that he wrote a quantity of iambic verses against Scipio, in the
bitter, sarcastic style of Archilochus, without, however, his licence and
scurrility. After this, he married Atilia, the daughter of Soranus, the
first but not the only woman he ever knew, less happy thus far than Laelius,
the friend of Scipio, who in the whole course of so long a life never knew
but the one woman, to whom he was united in his first and only
marriage.

In the war of the slaves, which took its name from Spartacus, their
ringleader, Gellius was general, and Cato went a volunteer, for the sake
of his brother Caepio, who was a tribune in the army. Cato could find here
no opportunity to show his zeal or exercise his valour, on account of the
ill conduct of the general. However, amidst the corruption and disorders
of that army, he showed such a love of discipline, so much bravery upon
occasion, and so much courage and wisdom in everything, that it appeared
he was in no way inferior to the old Cato. Gellius offered him great rewards,
and would have decreed him the first honours; which, however, he refused,
saying he had done nothing that deserved them. This made him be thought
a man of strange and eccentric temper.

There was a law passed, moreover, that the candidates who stood
for any office should not have prompters in their canvass, to tell them
the names of the citizens; and Cato, when he sued to be elected tribune,
was the only man that obeyed this law. He took great pains to learn by
his own knowledge to salute those he had to speak with, and to call them
by their names; yet even those who praised him for this, did not do so
without some envy and jealousy, for the more they considered the excellence
of what he did, the more they were grieved at the difficulty they found
to do the like.

Being chosen tribune, he was sent into Macedon to join Rubrius,
who was general there. It is said that his wife showing much concern, and
weeping at his departure, Munatius, one of Cato's friends, said to her,
"Do not trouble yourself, Atilia, I will engage to watch over him for you."
"By all means," replied Cato; and when they had gone one day's journey
together, "Now," said he to Munatius, after they had supped, "that you
may be sure to keep your promise to Atilia, you must not leave me day nor
night," and from that time, he ordered two beds to be made in his own chamber,
that Munatius might lie there. And so he continued to do, Cato making it
his jest to see that he was always there. There went with him fifteen slaves,
two freedmen, and four of his friends; these rode on horseback, but Cato
always went on foot, yet would he keep by them, and talk with each of them
in turn as they went.

When he came to the army, which consisted of several legions, the
general gave him the command of one; and as he looked upon it as a small
matter, and not worthy a commander, to give evidence of his own signal
valour, he resolved to make his soldiers, as far as he could, like himself,
not, however, in this relaxing the terrors of his office, but associating
reason with his authority. He persuaded and instructed every one in particular,
and bestowed rewards or punishments according to desert; and at length
his men were so well disciplined, that it was hard to say whether they
were more peaceable or more warlike, more valiant or more just; they were
alike formidable to their enemies their enemies and courteous to their
allies, fearful to do wrong, and forward to gain honour. And Cato himself
acquired in the fullest measure, what it had been his least desire to seek,
glory and good repute; he was highly esteemed by all men, and entirely
beloved by the soldiers. Whatever he commanded to be done, he himself took
part in the performing; in his apparel, his diet, and mode of travelling,
he was more like a common soldier than an officer; but in character, high
purpose, and wisdom, he far exceeded all that had the names and titles
of commanders, and he made himself, without knowing it, the object of general
affection. For the true love of virtue is in all men produced by the love
and respect they bear to him that teaches it; and those who praise good
men, yet do not love them, may respect their reputation, but do not really
admire, and will never imitate their virtue.

There dwelt at that time in Pergamus, Athenodorus, surnamed Cordylio,
a man of high repute for his knowledge of the Stoic philosophy, who was
now grown old, and had always steadily refused the friendship and acquaintance
of princes and great men. Cato understood this; so that imagining he should
not be able to prevail with him by sending or writing, and being by the
laws allowed two months' absence from the army, he resolved to go into
Asia to see him in person, trusting to his own good qualities not to lose
his labour. And when he had conversed with him, and succeeded in persuading
him out of his former resolutions, he returned and brought him to the camp
as joyful and as proud of this victory as if he had done some heroic exploit,
greater than any of those of Pompey or Lucullus, who with their armies
at that time were subduing so many nations and kingdoms.

While Cato was yet in the service, his brother, on a journey towards
Asia, fell sick at Aenus in Thrace, letters with intelligence of which
were immediately despatched to him. The sea was very rough, and no convenient
ship of any size to be had; so Cato getting into a small trading-vessel,
with only two of his friends, and three servants, set sail from Thessalonica,
and having very narrowly escaped drowning, he arrived at Aenus just as
Caepio expired. Upon this occasion, he was thought to have showed himself
more a fond brother than a philosopher, not only in the excess of his grief,
bewailing and embracing the dead body, but also in the extravagant expenses
of the funeral, the vast quantity of rich perfumes and costly garments
which were burnt with the corpse, and the monument of Thasian marble, which
he erected, at the cost of eight talents, in the public place of the town
of Aenus. For there were some who took upon them to cavil at all this,
as not consistent with his usual calmness and moderation, not discerning
that though he were steadfast, firm, and inflexible to pleasure, fear or
foolish entreaties, yet he was full of natural tenderness and brotherly
affection. Divers of the cities and princes of the country sent him many
presents, to honour the funeral of his brother; but he took none of their
money, only the perfumes and ornaments he received, and paid for them also.
And afterwards, when the inheritance was divided between him and Caepio's
daughter, he did not require any portion of the funeral expenses to be
discharged out of it. Notwithstanding this, it has been affirmed that he
made his brother's ashes be passed through a sieve, to find the gold that
was melted down when burnt with the body. But he who made this statement
appears to have anticipated an exemption for his pen, as much as for his
sword, from all question and criticism.

The time of Cato's service in the army being expired, he received,
at his departure, not only the prayers and praises, but the tears and embraces
of the soldiers, who spread their clothes at his feet and kissed his hand
as he passed, an honour which the Romans at that time scarcely paid even
to a very few of their generals and commanders-in-chief. Having left the
army, he resolved, before he would return home and apply himself to state
affairs, to travel in Asia, and observe the manners, the customs, and the
strength of every province. He was also unwilling to refuse the kindness
of Deiotarus, King of Galatia, who having had great familiarity and friendship
with his father, was very desirous to receive a visit from him. Cato's
arrangements in his journey were as follows. Early in the morning he sent
out his baker and his cook towards the place where he designed to stay
the next night; these went soberly and quietly into the town, in which,
if there happened to be no friend or acquaintance of Cato or his family,
they provided for him in an inn, and gave no disturbance to anybody; but
if there were no inn, then and in this case only, they went to the magistrates,
and desiring them to help them to lodgings, took without complaint whatever
was allotted to them. His servants thus behaving themselves towards the
magistrates, without noise and threatening, were often discredited, or
neglected by them, so that Cato many times arrived and found nothing provided
for him. And it was all the worse when he appeared himself; still less
account was taken of him. When they saw him sitting, without saying anything,
on his baggage, they set him down at once as a person of no consequence,
who did not venture to make any demand. Sometimes, on such occasions, he
would call them to him and tell them, "Foolish people, lay aside this inhospitality.
All your visitors will not be Catos. Use your courtesy, to take off the
sharp edge of power. There are men enough who desire but a pretence, to
take from you by force, what you give with such reluctance."

While he travelled in this manner, a diverting accident befell
him in Syria. As he was going into Antioch, he saw a great multitude of
people outside the gates, ranged in order on either side the way; here
the young men with long cloaks, there the children decently dressed; others
wore garlands and white garments who were the priests and magistrates.
Cato imagining all this could mean nothing but a display in honour of his
reception, began to be angry with his servants, who had been sent before,
for suffering it to be done; then making his friends alight, he walked
along with them on foot. As soon as he came near the gate, an elderly man,
who seemed to be master of these ceremonies, with a wand and a garland
in his hand, came up to Cato, and without saluting him, asked him where
he had left Demetrius, and how soon he thought he would he there. This
Demetrius was Pompey's servant, and as at this time the whole world, so
to say, had its eyes fixed upon Pompey, this man also was highly honoured,
on account of his influence with his master. Upon this Cato's friends fell
into such violent laughter, that they could not restrain themselves while
they passed through the crowd; and he himself, ashamed and distressed,
uttered the words, "Unfortunate city!" and said no more. Afterwards however,
it always made him laugh, when he either told the story or was otherwise
reminded of it.

Pompey himself shortly after made the people ashamed of their ignorance
and folly in thus neglecting him, for Cato, coming in his journey to Ephesus,
went to pay his respects to him, who was the elder man, had gained much
honour, and was then general of a great army. Yet Pompey would not receive
him sitting, but as soon as he saw him, rose up, and going to meet him,
as the more honourable person, gave him his hand, and embraced him with
great show of kindness. He said much in commendation of his virtue both
at that time when receiving him, and also yet more after he had withdrawn.
So that now all men began at once to display their respect for Cato, and
discovered in him the very same things for which they despised him before,
an admirable mildness of temper and greatness of spirit. And indeed the
civility that Pompey himself showed him appeared to come from one that
rather respected than loved him; and the general opinion was, that while
Cato was there he paid him admiration, but was not sorry when he was gone.
For when other young men came to see him he usually urged and entreated
them to continue with him. Now he did not at all invite Cato to stay, but
as if his own power were lessened by the other's presence, he very willingly
allowed him to take his leave. Yet to Cato alone, of all those who went
for Rome, he recommended his children and his wife, who was indeed connected
by relationship with Cato.

After this, all the cities through which he passed strove and emulated
each other in showing him respect and honour. Feasts and entertainments
were made for his reception, so that he bade his friends keep strict watch
and take care of him, lest he should end by making good what was said by
Curio, who though he were his familiar friend, yet disliking the austerity
of his temper, asked him one day if, when he left the army, he designed
to see Asia, and Cato answering, "Yes, by all means." "You do well," replied
Curio, "you will bring back with you a better temper and pleasanter manners;"
pretty nearly the very words he used.

Deiotarus, being now an old man, had sent for Cato, to recommend
his children and family to his protection; and as soon as he came, brought
him presents of all sorts of things, which he begged and entreated him
to accept. And his importunities displeased Cato so much, that though he
came but in the evening, he stayed only that night, and went away early
the next morning. After he was gone one day's journey, he found at Pessinus
a yet greater quantity of presents provided for him there, and also letters
from Deiotarus entreating him to receive them, or at least to permit his
friends to take them, who for his sake deserved some gratification, and
could not have much done for them out of Cato's own means. Yet he would
not suffer it, though he saw some of them very willing to receive such
gifts, and ready to complain of his severity; but he answered, that corruption
would never want pretence, and his friends should share with him in whatever
he should justly and honestly obtain, and so returned the presents to
Deiotarus.

When he took ship for Brundusium, his friends would have persuaded
him to put his brother's ashes into another vessel; but he said he would
sooner part with his life than leave them, and so set sail. And as it chanced,
he, we are told, had a very dangerous passage, though others at the same
time went over safely enough.

After he was returned to Rome, he spent his time for the most part
either at home, in conversation with Athenodorus, or at the forum, in the
service of his friends. Though it was now the time that he should become
quaestor, he would not stand for the place till he had studied the laws
relating to it, and by inquiry from persons of experience, had attained
a distinct understanding of the duty and authority belonging to it. With
this knowledge, as soon as he came into the office, he made a great reformation
among the clerks and under-officers of the treasury, people who had long
practice and familiarity in all the public records and the laws, and, when
new magistrates came in year by year so ignorant and unskillful as to be
in absolute need of others to teach them what to do, did not submit and
give way, but kept the power in their own hands, and were in effect the
treasurers themselves. Till Cato, applying himself roundly to the work,
showed that he possessed not only the title and honour of a quaestor, but
the knowledge and understanding and full authority of his office. So that
he used the clerks and under-officers like servants as they were, exposing
their corrupt practices, and instructing their ignorance. Being bold, impudent
fellows, they flattered the other quaestors his colleagues, and by their
means endeavoured to maintain an opposition against him. But he convicted
the chiefest of them of a breach of trust in the charge of an inheritance,
and turned him out of his place. A second he brought to trial for dishonesty,
who was defended by Lutatius Catulus, at that time censor, a man very considerable
for his office, but yet more for his character, as he was eminent above
all the Romans of that age for his reputed wisdom integrity. He was also
intimate with Cato, and much commended his way of living. So perceiving
he could not bring off his client, if he stood a fair trial, he openly
began to beg him off. Cato objected to his doing this. And when he continued
still to be importunate, "It would be shameful, Catulus," he said, "that
the censor, the judge of all our lives, should incur the dishonour of removal
by our officers." At this expression, Catulus looked as if he would have
made some answer; but he said nothing and either through anger or shame
went away silent, and out of countenance. Nevertheless, the man was not
found guilty, for the voices that acquitted him were but one in number
less than those that condemned him, and Marcus Lollius, one of Cato's colleagues,
who was absent by reason of sickness, was sent for by Catulus, and entreated
to come and save the man. So Lollius was brought into court in a chair,
and gave his voice also for acquitting him. Yet Cato never after made use
of that clerk, and never paid him his salary, nor would he make any account
of the vote given by Lollius. Having thus humbled the clerks, and brought
them to be at command, he made use of the books and registers as he thought
fit, and in a little while gained the treasury a higher name than the senate-house
itself; and all men said, Cato had made the office of a quaestor equal
to the dignity of a consul. When he found many indebted to the state upon
old accounts, and the state also in debt to many private persons, he took
care that the public might no longer either do or suffer wrong; he strictly
and punctually exacted what was due to the treasury, and as freely and
speedily paid all those to whom it was indebted. So that the people were
filled with sentiments of awe and respect, on seeing those made to pay,
who thought to have escaped with their plunder, and others receiving all
their due, who despaired of getting anything. And whereas usually those
who brought false bills and pretended orders of the senate, could through
favour get them accepted, Cato would never be so imposed upon; and in the
case of one particular order, on the question arising whether it had passed
the senate, he would not believe a great many witnesses that attested it,
nor would admit of it, till the consuls came and affirmed it upon
oath.

There were at that time a great many whom Sylla had made use of
as his agents in the proscription, and to whom he had for their service
in putting men to death, given twelve thousand drachmas apiece. These men
everybody hated as wicked and polluted wretches, but nobody durst be revenged
upon them. Cato called every one to account, as wrongfully possessed of
the public money, and exacted it of them, and at the same time sharply
reproved them for their unlawful and impious actions. After these proceedings
they were presently accused of murder, and being already in a manner prejudged
as guilty, they were easily found so, and accordingly suffered; at which
the whole people rejoiced and thought themselves now to see the old tyranny
finally abolished, and Sylla himself, so to say, brought to
punishment.

Cato's assiduity also, and indefatigable diligence, won very much
upon the people. He always came first of any of his colleagues to the treasury,
and away the last. He never missed any assembly of the people, or sitting
of the senate; being always anxious and on the watch for those who lightly,
or as a matter of interest, passed votes in favour of this or that person,
for remitting debts or granting away customs that were owing to the state.
And at length, having kept the exchequer pure and clear from base informers,
and yet having filled it with treasure, he made it appear that the state
might be rich without oppressing the people. At first he excited feelings
of dislike and irritation in some of his colleagues, but after a while
they were well contented with him, since he was perfectly willing that
they should cast all the odium on him, when they declined to gratify their
friends with the public money, or to give dishonest judgments in passing
their accounts; and when hard-pressed by suitors, they could readily answer
it was impossible to do anything unless Cato would consent. On the last
day of his office, he was honourably attended to his house by, almost all
the people; but on the way he was informed that several powerful friends
were in the treasury with Marcellus, using all their interest with him
to pass a certain debt to the public revenue, as if it had been a gift.
Marcellus had been one of Cato's friends from his childhood, and so long
as Cato was with him, was one of the best of his colleagues in this office,
but when alone, was unable to resist the importunity of suitors, and prone
to do anybody a kindness. So Cato immediately turned back, and finding
that Marcellus had yielded to pass the thing, he took the book, and while
Marcellus silently stood by and looked on, struck it out. This done, he
brought Marcellus out of the treasury, and took him home with him; who
for all this, neither then, nor ever after, complained of him, but always
continued his friendship and familiarity with him.

Cato, after he had laid down his office, yet did not cease to keep
a watch upon the treasury. He had his servants who continually wrote out
the details of the expenditure, and he himself kept always by him certain
books, which contained the accounts of the revenue from Sylla's time to
his own quaestorship, which he had bought for five talents.

He was always first at the senate, and went out last; and often,
while the others were slowly collecting, he would sit and read by himself,
holding his gown before his book. He was never once out of town when the
senate was to meet. And when afterwards Pompey and his party, finding that
he could never be either persuaded or compelled to favour their unjust
designs, endeavoured to keep him from the senate, by engaging him in business
for his friends, to plead their causes, or arbitrate in their differences,
or the like, he quickly discovered the trick, and to defeat it, fairly
told all his acquaintance that he would never meddle in any private business
when the senate was assembled. Since it was not in the hope of gaining
honour or riches, nor out of mere impulse, or by chance that he engaged
himself in politics, but he undertook the service of the state as the proper
business of honest man, and therefore he thought himself obliged to be
as constant to his public duty as the bee to the honeycomb. To this end,
he took care to have his friends and correspondents everywhere, to send
him reports of the edicts, decrees, judgments, and all the important proceedings
that passed in any of the provinces. Once when Clodius, the seditious orator,
to promote his violent and revolutionary projects, traduced to the people
some of the priests and priestesses (among whom Fabia, sister to Cicero's
wife, Terentia, ran great danger), Cato having boldly interfered, and having
made Clodius appear so infamous that he was forced to leave the town, was
addressed, when it was over, by Cicero, who came to thank him for what
he had done. "You must thank the commonwealth," said he, for whose sake
alone he professed to do everything. Thus he gained a great and wonderful
reputation; so that an advocate in a cause, where there was only one witness
against him, told the judges they ought not to rely upon a single witness,
though it were Cato himself. And it was a sort of proverb with many people,
if any very unlikely and incredible thing were asserted, to say, they would
not believe it, though Cato himself should affirm it. One day a debauched
and sumptuous liver talking in the senate about frugality and temperance,
Anaeus standing up, cried, "Who can endure this, sir, to have you feast
like Crassus, build like Lucullus, and talk like Cato." So likewise those
who were vicious and dissolute in their manners, yet affected to be grave
and severe in their language, were in derision called
Catos.

At first, when his friends would have persuaded him to stand to
be tribune of the people, he thought it undesirable; for that the power
of so great an office ought to be reserved, as the strongest medicines,
for occasions of the last necessity. But afterwards in a vacation time,
as he was going, accompanied with his books and philosophers, to Lucania,
where he had lands with a pleasant residence, they met by the way a great
many horses, carriages, and attendants, of whom they understood, that Metellus
Nepos was going to Rome, to stand to be tribune of the people. Hereupon
Cato stopped, and after a little pause, gave orders to return back immediately;
at which the company seeming to wonder, "Don't you know," said he, "how
dangerous of itself the madness of Metellus is? and now that he comes armed
with the support of Pompey, he will fall like lightning on the state, and
bring it to utter disorder; therefore this is no time for idleness and
diversion, but we must go and prevent this man in his designs, or bravely
die in defence of our liberty." Nevertheless, by the persuasion of his
friends, he went first to his country-house, where he stayed but a very
little time, and then returned to town.

He arrived in the evening, and went straight the next morning to
the forum, where he began to solicit for the tribuneship, in opposition
to Metellus. The power of this office consists rather in controlling than
performing any business; for though all the rest except any one tribune
should be agreed, yet his denial or intercession could put a stop to the
whole matter. Cato, at first, had not many that appeared for him; but as
soon as his design was known, all the good and distinguished persons of
the city quickly came forward to encourage and support him, looking upon
him, not as one that desired a favour of them, but one that proposed to
do a great favour to his country and all honest men; who had many times
refused the same office, when he might have had it without trouble, but
now sought it with danger, that he might defend their liberty and their
government. It is reported that so great a number flocked about him that
he was like to be stifled amidst the press, and could scarce get through
the crowd. He was declared tribune, with several others, among whom was
Metellus.

When Cato was chosen into this office, observing that the election
of consuls was become a matter of purchase, he sharply rebuked the people
for this corruption, and in the conclusion of his speech protested he would
bring to trial whomever he should find giving money, making an exception
only in the case of Silanus, on account of their near connection, he having
married Servilia, Cato's sister. He therefore did not prosecute him, but
accused Lucius Murena, who had been chosen consul by corrupt means with
Silanus. There was a law that the party accused might appoint a person
to keep watch upon his accuser, that he might know fairly what means he
took in preparing the accusation. He that was set upon Cato by Murena,
at first followed and observed him strictly, yet never found him dealing
any way unfairly or insidiously, but always generously and candidly going
on in the just and open methods of proceeding. And he so admired Cato's
great spirit, and so entirely trusted to his integrity, that meeting him
in the forum, or going to his house, he would ask him if he designed to
do anything that day in order to the accusation, and if Cato said no, he
went away, relying on his word. When the cause was pleaded Cicero, who
was then consul and defended Murena, took occasion to be extremely witty
and jocose, in reference to Cato, upon the Stoic philosophers, and their
paradoxes, as they call them, and so excited great laughter among the judges;
upon which Cato, smiling, said to the standers-by, "What a pleasant consul
we have, my friends." Murena was acquitted, and afterwards showed himself
a man of no ill-feeling or want of sense; for when he was consul, he always
took Cato's advice in the most weighty affairs and, during all the time
of his office, paid him much honour and respect. Of which not only Murena's
prudence, but also Cato's own behaviour, was the cause; for though he were
terrible and severe as to matters of justice, in the senate, and at the
bar, yet after the thing was over his manner to all men was perfectly friendly
and humane.

Before he entered on the office of tribune, he assisted Cicero,
at that time consul, in many contests that concerned his office, but most
especially in his great and noble acts at the time of Catiline's conspiracy;
which owed their last successful issue to Cato. Catiline had plotted a
dreadful and entire subversion of the Roman state by sedition and open
war, but being convicted by Cicero, was forced to fly the city. Yet Lentulus
and Cethegus remained, with several others, to carry on the same plot;
and blaming Catiline, as one that wanted courage, and had been timid and
petty in his designs, they themselves resolved to set the whole town on
fire, and utterly to overthrow the empire, rousing whole nations to revolt
and exciting foreign wars. But the design was discovered by Cicero (as
we have written in his life), and the matter brought before the senate.
Silanus, who spoke first, delivered his opinion, that the conspirators
ought to suffer the last of punishments, and was therein followed by all
who spoke after him; till it came to Caesar, who being an excellent speaker,
and looking upon all changes and commotions in the state as materials useful
for his own purposes, desired rather to increase than extinguish them;
and standing up, he made a very merciful and persuasive speech, that they
ought not to suffer death without fair trial according to law, and moved
that they might be kept in prison. Thus was the house almost wholly turned
by Caesar, apprehending also the anger of the people; insomuch that even
Silanus retracted, and said he did not mean to propose death, but imprisonment,
for that was the utmost a Roman could suffer.

Upon this they were all inclined to the milder and more merciful
opinion, when Cato, standing up, began at once with great passion and vehemence
to reproach Silanus for his change of opinion, and to attack Caesar, who
would, he said, ruin the commonwealth by soft words and popular speeches,
and was endeavouring to frighten the senate, when he himself ought to fear,
and be thankful, if he escaped unpunished or unsuspected, who thus openly
and boldly dared to protect the enemies of the state, and while finding
no compassion for his own native country, brought, with all its glories,
so near to utter ruin, could yet be full of pity for those men who had
better never have been born, and whose death must deliver the commonwealth
from bloodshed and destruction. This only of all Cato's speeches, it is
said, was preserved; for Cicero, the consul, had disposed in various parts
of the senate-house, several of the most expert and rapid writers, whom
he had taught to make figures comprising numerous words in a few short
strokes; as up to that time they had not used those we call shorthand writers,
who then, as it is said, established the first example of the art. Thus
Cato carried it, and so turned the house again, that it was decreed the
conspirators should be put to death.

Not to omit any small matters that may serve to show Cato's temper,
and add something to the portraiture of his mind, it is reported, that
while Caesar and he were in the very heat, and the whole senate regarding
them two, a little note was brought in to Caesar which Cato declared to
be suspicious, and urging that some seditious act was going on, bade the
letter be read. Upon which Caesar handed the paper to Cato; who, discovering
it to be a love-letter from his sister Servilia to Caesar, by whom she
had been corrupted, threw it to him again, saying, "Take it, drunkard,"
and so went on with his discourse. And, indeed, it seems Cato had but ill-fortune
in women; for this lady was ill-spoken of for her familiarity with Caesar,
and the other Servilia, Cato's sister also, was yet more ill-conducted;
for being married to Lucullus, one of the greatest men in Rome, and having
brought him a son, she was afterwards divorced for incontinency. But what
was worst of all, Cato's own wife Atilia was not free from the same fault;
and after she had borne him two children, he was forced to put her away
for her misconduct. After that, he married Marcia, the daughter of Philippus,
a woman of good reputation, who yet has occasioned much discourse; and
the life of Cato, like a dramatic piece, has this one scene or passage
full of perplexity and doubtful meaning.

It is thus related by Thrasea, who refers to the authority of Munatius,
Cato's friend and constant companion. Among many that loved and admired
Cato, some were more remarkable and conspicuous than others. Of these was
Quintus Hortensius, a man of high repute and approved virtue, who desired
not only to live in friendship and familiarity with Cato, but also to unite
his whole house and family with him by some sort or other of alliance in
marriage. Therefore he set himself to persuade Cato that his daughter Porcia,
who was already married to, Bibulus, and had borne him two children, might
nevertheless be given to him, as a fair plot of land, to bear fruit also
for him. "For," said he, "though this in the opinion of men may seem strange,
yet in nature it is honest, and profitable for the public that a woman
in the prime of her youth should not lie useless, and lose the fruit of
her womb, nor, on the other side, should burden and impoverish one man,
by bringing him too many children. Also by this communication of families
among worthy men, virtue would increase, and be diffused through their
posterity; and the commonwealth would be united and cemented by their alliances."
Yet if Bibulus would not part with his wife altogether, he would restore
her as soon as she had brought him a child, whereby he might be united
to both their families. Cato answered, that he loved Hortensius very well,
and much approved of uniting their houses, but he thought it strange to
speak of marrying his daughter, when she was already given to another.
Then Hortensius, turning the discourse, did not hesitate to speak openly
and ask for Cato's own wife, for she was young and fruitful, and he had
already children enough. Neither can it be thought that Hortensius did
this, as imagining Cato did not care for Marcia; for, it is said, she was
then with child. Cato, perceiving his earnest desire, did not deny his
request, but said that Philippus, the father of Marcia, ought also to be
consulted. Philippus, therefore, being sent for, came; and finding they
were well agreed, gave his daughter Marcia to Hortensius in the presence
of Cato, who himself also assisted at the marriage. This was done at a
later time, but since I was speaking of women, I thought it well to mention
it now.

Lentulus and the rest of the conspirators were put to death; but
Caesar, finding so much insinuated and charged against him in the senate,
betook himself to the people, and proceeded to stir up the most corrupt
and dissolute elements of the state to form a party in his support. Cato,
apprehensive of what might ensue, persuaded the senate to win over the
poor and unprovided-for multitude by a distribution of corn, the annual
charge of which amounted to twelve hundred and fifty talents. This act
of humanity and kindness unquestionably dissipated the present danger.
But Metellus, coming into his office of tribune, began to hold tumultuous
assemblies, and had prepared a decree, that Pompey the Great should presently
be called into Italy, with all his forces, to preserve the city from the
danger of Catiline's conspiracy. This was the fair pretence; but the true
design was to deliver all into the hands of Pompey, and to give him an
absolute power. Upon this the senate was assembled, and Cato did not fall
sharply upon Metellus, as he often did, but urged his advice in the most
reasonable and moderate tone. At last he descended even to entreaty, and
extolled the house of Metellus as having always taken part with the nobility.
At this Metellus grew the more insolent, and despising Cato, as if he yielded
and were afraid, let himself proceed to the most audacious menaces, openly
threatening to do whatever he pleased in spite of the senate. Upon this
Cato changed his countenance, his voice, and his language; and after many
sharp expressions, boldly concluded that, while he lived, Pompey should
never come armed into the city. The senate thought them both extravagant,
and not well in their safe senses; for the design of Metellus seemed to
be mere rage and frenzy, out of excess of mischief bringing all things
to ruin and confusion, and Cato's virtue looked like a kind of ecstasy
of contention in the cause of what was good and just.

But when the day came for the people to give their voices for the
passing this decree, and Metellus beforehand occupied the forum with armed
men, strangers, gladiators, and slaves, those that in hopes of change followed
Pompey were known to be no small part of the people, and besides, they
had great assistance from Caesar, who was then praetor; and though the
best and chiefest men of the city were no less offended at these proceedings
than Cato, they seemed rather likely to suffer with him than able to assist
him. In the meantime Cato's whole family were in extreme fear and apprehension
for him; some of his friends neither ate nor slept all the night, passing
the whole time in debating and perplexity; his wife and sisters also bewailed
and lamented him. But he himself, void of all fear, and full of assurance,
comforted and encouraged them by his own words and conversation with them.
After supper he went to rest at his usual hour, and was the next day waked
out of a profound sleep by Minucius Thermus, one of his colleagues. So
soon as he was up, they two went together into the forum, accompanied by
very few, but met by a great many, who bade them have a care of themselves.
Cato, therefore, when he saw the temple of Castor and Pollux encompassed
with armed men, and the steps guarded by gladiators, and at the top Metellus
and Caesar seated together, turning to his friends, "Behold," said he,
"this audacious coward, who has levied a regiment of soldiers against one
unarmed naked man; and so he went on with Thermus. Those who kept the passages
gave way to these two only, and would not let anybody else pass. Yet Cato
taking Munatius by the hand, with much difficulty pulled him through along
with him. Then going directly to Metellus and Caesar, he sat himself down
between them, to prevent their talking to one another, at which they were
both amazed and confounded. And those of the honest party, observing the
countenance, and admiring the high spirit and boldness of Cato, went nearer,
and cried out to him to have courage, exhorting also one another to stand
together, and not betray their liberty nor the defender of
it.

Then the clerk took out the bill, but Cato forbade him to read
it, whereupon Metellus took it, and would have read it himself, but Cato
snatched the book away. Yet Metellus, having the decree by heart, began
to recite it without book; but Thermus put his hand to his mouth, and stopped
his speech. Metellus seeing them fully bent to withstand him, and the people
cowed, and inclining to the better side, sent to his house for armed men.
And on their rushing in with great noise and terror, all the rest dispersed
and ran away, except Cato, who alone stood still, while the other party
threw sticks and stones at him from above, until Murena, whom he had formerly
accused, came up to protect him, and holding his gown before him, cried
out to them to leave off throwing; and, in fine, persuading and pulling
him along, he forced him into the temple of Castor and Pollux. Metellus,
now seeing the place clear, and all the adverse party fled out of the forum,
thought he might easily carry his point; so he commanded the soldiers to
retire, and recommencing in an orderly manner, began to proceed to passing
the decree. But the other side having recovered themselves, returned very
boldly, and with loud shouting, insomuch that Metellus's adherents were
seized with a panic, supposing them to be coming with a reinforcement of
armed men, fled every one out of the place. They being thus dispersed,
Cato came in again, and confirmed the courage, and commended the resolution
of the people; so that now the majority were, by all means, for deposing
Metellus from his office. The senate also being assembled, gave orders
once more for supporting Cato, and resisting the motion, as of a nature
to excite sedition and perhaps civil war in the city.

But Metellus continued still very bold and resolute; and seeing
his party stood greatly in fear of Cato, whom they looked upon as invincible,
he hurried out of the senate into the forum, and assembled the people,
to whom he made a bitter and invidious speech against Cato, crying out,
he was forced to fly from his tyranny, and this conspiracy against Pompey;
that the city would soon repent their having dishonoured so great a man.
And from hence he started to go to Asia, with the intention, as would he
supposed, of laying before Pompey all the injuries that were done him.
Cato was highly extolled for having delivered the state from this dangerous
tribuneship, and having in some measure defeated, in the person of Metellus,
the power of Pompey; but he was yet more commended when, upon the senate
proceeding to disgrace Metellus and depose him from his office, he altogether
opposed and at length diverted the design. The common people admired his
moderation and humanity, in not trampling wantonly on an enemy whom he
had overthrown, and wiser men acknowledged his prudence and policy in not
exasperating Pompey.

Lucullus soon after returned from the war in Asia, the finishing
of which, and thereby the glory of the whole, was thus, in all appearance,
taken out of his hands by Pompey. And he was also not far from losing his
triumph, for Caius Memmius traduced him to the people, and threatened to
accuse him; rather, however, out of love to Pompey, than for any particular
enmity to him. But Cato, being allied to Lucullus, who had married his
sister Servilia, and also thinking it a great injustice, opposed Memmius,
thereby exposing himself to much slander and misrepresentation, insomuch
that they would have turned him out of his office, pretending that he used
his power tyrannically. Yet at length Cato so far prevailed against Memmius
that he was forced to let fall the accusations, and abandon the contest.
And Lucullus having thus obtained his triumph, yet more sedulously cultivated
Cato's friendship, which he looked upon as a great guard and defence for
him against Pompey's power.

And now Pompey also returning with glory from the war, and confiding
in the good-will of the people, shown in their splendid reception of him,
thought he should be denied nothing, and sent therefore to the senate to
put off the assembly for the election of consuls, till he could be present
to assist Piso, who stood for that office. To this most of the senators
were disposed to yield; Cato only not so much thinking that this delay
would be of great importance, but, desiring to cut down at once Pompey's
high expectations and designs, withstood his request, and so overruled
the senate that it was carried against him. And this not a little disturbed
Pompey, who found he should very often fail in his projects unless he could
bring over Cato to his interest. He sent, therefore, for Munatius, his
friend; and Cato having two nieces that were marriageable, he offered to
marry the eldest himself, and take the youngest for his son. Some say they
were not his nieces, but his daughters. Munatius proposed the matter to
Cato, in presence of his wife and sisters; the women were full of joy at
the prospect of an alliance with so great and important a person. But Cato,
without delay or balancing, forming his decision at once, answered, "Go,
Munatius, go and tell Pompey that Cato is not assailable on the side of
the women's chamber; I am grateful indeed for the intended kindness, and
so long as his actions are upright, I promise him a friendship more sure
than any marriage alliance, but I will not give hostages to Pompey's glory
against my country's safety." This answer was very much against the wishes
of the women, and to all his friends it seemed somewhat harsh and haughty.
But afterwards, when Pompey, endeavouring to get the consulship for one
of his friends, gave pay to the people for their votes, and the bribery
was notorious, the money being counted out in Pompey's own gardens, Cato
then said to the women, they must necessarily have been concerned in the
contamination of these misdeeds of Pompey, if they had been allied to his
family; and they acknowledged that he did best in refusing it. Yet if we
may judge by the event, Cato was much to blame in rejecting that alliance,
which thereby fell to Caesar. And then that match was made, which, uniting
his and Pompey's power, had well-nigh ruined the Roman empire, and did
destroy the commonwealth. Nothing of which, perhaps, had come to pass,
but that Cato was too apprehensive of Pompey's least faults, and did not
consider how he forced him into conferring on another man the opportunity
of committing the greatest.

These things, however, were yet to come. Lucullus and Pompey, meantime,
had a great dispute concerning their orders and arrangements in Pontus,
each endeavouring that his own ordinances might stand. Cato took part with
Lucullus, who was manifestly suffering wrong; and Pompey, finding himself
the weaker in the senate, had recourse to the people, and to gain votes
he proposed a law for dividing the lands among the soldiers. Cato opposing
him in this also made the bill he rejected. Upon this he joined himself
with Clodius, at that time the most violent of all the demagogues, and
entered also into friendship with Caesar, upon an occasion of which also
Cato was the cause. For Caesar, returning from his government in Spain,
at the same time sued to be chosen consul, and yet desired not to lose
his triumph. Now the law requiring that those who stood for any office
should be present, and yet that whoever expected a triumph should continue
without the walls, Caesar requested the senate that his friends might be
permitted to canvass for him in his absence. Many of the senators were
willing to consent to it, but Cato opposed it, and perceiving them inclined
to favour Caesar, spent the whole day in speaking, and so prevented the
senate from coming to any conclusion. Caesar, therefore, resolving to let
fall his pretensions to the triumph, came into the town, and immediately
made a friendship with Pompey, and stood for the consulship. As soon as
he was declared consul elect, he married his daughter Julia to Pompey.
And having thus combined themselves together against the commonwealth,
the one proposed laws for dividing the lands among the poor people, and
the other was present to support the proposals. Lucullus, Cicero, and their
friends, joined with Bibulus, the other consul, to hinder their passing,
and, foremost of them all, Cato, who already looked upon the friendship
and alliance of Pompey and Caesar as very dangerous, declared he did not
so much dislike the advantage the people should get by this division of
the lands, as he feared the reward these men would gain, by thus courting
and cozening the people. And in this he gained over the senate to his opinion,
as likewise many who were not senators, who were offended at Caesar's ill-conduct,
that he, in the office of consul, should thus basely and dishonourably
flatter the people; practising, to win their favour, the same means that
were wont to be used only by the most rash and rebellious tribunes. Caesar,
therefore, and his party, fearing they should not carry it by fair dealing,
fell to open force. First a basket of dung was thrown upon Bibulus as he
was going to the forum; then they set upon his lictors and broke their
rods; at length several darts were thrown, and many men wounded; so that
all that were against those laws fled out of the forum, the rest with what
haste they could, and Cato, last of all, walking out slowly, often turning
back and calling down vengeance upon them.

Thus the other party not only carried their point of dividing the
lands, but also ordained that all the senate should swear to confirm this
law, and to defend it against whoever should attempt to alter it, inflicting
great penalties on those that should refuse the oath. All these senators,
seeing the necessity they were in, took the oath, remembering the example
of Metellus in old time, who, refusing to swear upon the like occasion,
was forced to leave Italy. As for Cato, his wife and children with tears
besought him, his friends and familiars persuaded and entreated him, to
yield and take the oath; but he that principally prevailed with him was
Cicero, the orator, who urged upon him that it was perhaps not even right
in itself, that a private man should oppose what the public had decreed;
that the thing being already past altering, it were folly and madness to
throw himself into danger without the chance of doing his country any good;
it would be the greatest of all evils to embrace, as it were, the opportunity
to abandon the commonwealth, for whose sake he did everything, and to let
it fall into the hands of those who designed nothing but its ruin, as if
he were glad to be saved from the trouble of defending it. "For," said
he, "though Cato have no need of Rome, yet Rome has need of Cato, and so
likewise have all his friends." Of whom Cicero professed he himself was
the chief, being at that time aimed at by Clodius, who openly threatened
to fall upon him, as soon as ever he should get to be tribune. Thus Cato,
they say, moved by the entreaties and the arguments of his friends, went
unwillingly to take the oath, which he did the last of all, except only
Favonius, one of his intimate acquaintance.

Caesar, exalted with this success, proposed another law, for dividing
almost all the country of Campania among the poor and needy citizens. Nobody
durst speak against it but Cato, whom Caesar therefore pulled from the
rostra and dragged to prison: yet Cato did not even thus remit his freedom
of speech, but as he went along continued to speak against the law, and
advised the people to put down all legislators who proposed the like. The
senate and the best of the citizens followed him with sad and dejected
looks, showing their grief and indignation by their silence, so that Caesar
could not be ignorant how much they were offended; but for contention's
sake he still persisted, expecting Cato should either supplicate him, or
make an appeal. But when he saw that he did not so much as think of doing
either, ashamed of what he was doing and of what people thought of it,
he himself privately bade one of the tribunes interpose and procure his
release. However, having won the multitude by these laws and gratifications,
they decreed that Caesar should have the government of Illyricum, and all
Gaul, with an army of four legions, for the space of five years, though
Cato still cried out they were, by their own vote, placing a tyrant in
their citadel. Publius Clodius, a patrician, who illegally became a plebeian,
was declared tribune of the people, as he had promised to do all things
according to their pleasure, on condition he might banish Cicero. And for
consuls, they set up Calpurnius Piso, the father of Caesar's wife, and
Aulus Gabinius, one of Pompey's creatures, as they tell us, who best knew
his life and manners.

Yet when they had thus firmly established all things, having mastered
one part of the city by favour, and the other by fear, they themselves
were still afraid of Cato, and remembered with vexation what pains and
trouble their success over him had cost them, and indeed what shame and
disgrace, when at last they were driven to use violence to him. This made
Clodius despair of driving Cicero out of Italy while Cato stayed at home.
Therefore having first laid his design, as soon as he came into his office,
he sent for Cato, and told him that he looked upon him as the most incorrupt
of all the Romans, and was ready to show he did so. "For whereas," said
he, "many have applied to be sent to Cyprus on the commission in the case
of Ptolemy and have solicited to have the appointment, I think you alone
are deserving of it, and I desire to give you the favour of the appointment."
Cato at once cried out it was a mere design upon him, and no favour, but
an injury. Then Clodius proudly and fiercely answered, "If you will not
take it as a kindness, you shall go, though never so unwillingly;" and
immediately going into the assembly of the people he made them pass a decree,
that Cato should be sent to Cyprus. But they ordered him neither ship,
nor soldier, nor any attendant, except two secretaries, one of whom was
a thief and a rascal, and the other a retainer to Clodius. Besides, as
if Cyprus and Ptolemy were not work sufficient, he was ordered also to
restore the refugees of Byzantium. For Clodius was resolved to keep him
far enough off whilst himself continued tribune.

Cato, being in this necessity of going away, advised Cicero, who
was next to be set upon, to make no resistance, lest he should throw the
state into civil war and confusion, but to give way to the times, and thus
become once more the preserver of his country. He himself sent forward
Canidius, one of his friends, to Cyprus, to persuade Ptolemy to yield,
without being forced; which if he did, he should want neither riches nor
honour, for the Romans would give him the priesthood of the goddess at
Paphos. He himself stayed at Rhodes, making some preparations, and expecting
an answer from Cyprus. In the meantime, Ptolemy, King of Egypt, who had
left Alexandria, upon some quarrel between him and his subjects, and was
sailing for Rome, in hopes that Pompey and Caesar would send troops to
restore him, in his way thither desired to see Cato, to whom he sent, supposing
he would come to him. Cato had taken purging medicine at the time when
the messenger came, and made answer, that Ptolemy had better come to him,
if he thought fit. And when he came, he neither went forward to meet him,
nor so much as rose up to him, but saluting him as an ordinary person,
bade him sit down. This at once threw Ptolemy into some confusion, who
was surprised to see such stern and haughty manners in one who made so
plain and unpretending an appearance; but afterwards, when he began to
talk about his affairs, he was no less astonished at the wisdom and freedom
of his discourse. For Cato blamed his conduct, and pointed out to him what
honour and happiness he was abandoning, and what humiliations and troubles
he would run himself into; what bribery he must resort to, and what cupidity
he would have to satisfy when he came to the leading men at Rome, whom
all Egypt turned into silver would scarcely content. He therefore advised
him to return home, and be reconciled to his subjects, offering to go along
with him, and assist him in composing the differences. And by this language
Ptolemy being brought to himself, as it might be out of a fit of madness
or delirium, and discerning the truth and wisdom of what Cato said, resolved
to follow his advice; but he was again over-persuaded by his friends to
the contrary, and so, according to his first design, went to Rome. When
he came there, and was forced to wait at the gate of one of the magistrates,
he began to lament his folly in having rejected, rather, as it seemed to
him, the oracle of a god than the advice merely of a good and
wise.

In the meantime, the other Ptolemy, in Cyprus, very luckily for
Cato, poisoned himself. It was reported he had left great riches; therefore,
Cato designing to go first to Byzantium, sent his nephew Brutus to Cyprus,
as he would not wholly trust Canidius. Then, having reconciled the refugees
and the people of Byzantium, he left the city in peace and quietness; and
so sailed to Cyprus, where he found a royal treasure of plate, tables,
precious stones and purple, all which was to be turned into ready money.
And being determined to do everything with the greatest exactness, and
to raise the price of everything to the utmost, to this end he was always
present at selling the things, and went carefully into all the accounts.
Nor would he trust to the usual customs of the market, but looked doubtfully
upon all alike, the officers, criers, purchasers, and even his own friends;
and so in fine he himself talked with the buyers, and urged them to bid
high, and conducted in this manner the greatest part of the
sales.

This mistrustfulness offended most of his friends, and in particular,
Munatius, the most intimate of them all, became almost irreconcilable.
And this afforded Caesar the subject of his severest censures in the book
he wrote against Cato. Yet Munatius himself relates, that the quarrel was
not so much occasioned by Cato's mistrust, as by his neglect of him, and
by his own jealousy of Canidius. For Munatius also wrote a book concerning
Cato, which is the chief authority followed by Thrasea. Munatius says,
that coming to Cyprus after the other, and having a very poor lodging provided
for him, he went to Cato's house, but was not admitted, because he was
engaged in private with Canidius; of which he afterwards complained in
very gentle terms to Cato, but received a very harsh answer, that too much
love, according to Theophrastus, often causes hatred; "and you," he said,
"because you bear me much love, think you receive too little honour, and
presently grow angry. I employ Canidius on account of his industry and
his fidelity; he has been with me from the first, and I have found him
to be trusted." These things were said in private between them two; but
Cato afterwards told Canidius what had passed, on being informed of which,
Munatius would no more go to sup with him, and when he was invited to give
his counsel, refused to come. Then Cato threatened to seize his goods,
as was the custom in the case of those who were disobedient; but Munatius
not regarding his threats, returned to Rome, and continued a long time
thus discontented. But afterwards, when Cato was come back also, Marcia,
who as yet lived with him, contrived to have them both invited to sup together
at the house of one Barca; Cato came in last of all, when the rest were
laid down, and asked, where he should be. Barca answered him, where he
pleased; then looking about, he said he would be near Munatius, and went
and placed himself next to him; yet he showed him no other mark of kindness
all the time they were at table together. But another time, at the entreaty
of Marcia, Cato wrote to Munatius that he desired to speak with him. Munatius
went to his house in the morning and was kept by Marcia till all the company
was gone; then Cato came, threw both his arms about him, and embraced him
very kindly they were reconciled. I have the more fully related this passage,
for that I think the manners and tempers of men are more clearly discovered
by things of this nature, than by great and conspicuous
actions.

Cato got together little less than seven thousand talents of silver;
but apprehensive of what might happen in so long a voyage by sea, he provided
a great many coffers that held two talents and five hundred drachmas apiece;
to each of these he fastened a long rope, and to the other end of the rope
a piece of cork, so that if the ship should miscarry, it might be discovered
whereabout the chests lay under water. Thus all the money, except a very
little, was safely transported. But he had made two books, in which all
the accounts of his commission were carefully written out, and neither
of these was preserved. For his freedman Philargyrus, who had the charge
of one of them, setting sail from Cenchreae, was lost, together with the
ship and all her freight. And the other Cato himself kept safe till he
came to Corcyra, but there he set up his tent in the market-place, and
the sailors, being very cold in the night, made a great many fires, some
of which caught the tents, so that they were burnt, and the book lost.
And though he had brought with him several of Ptolemy's stewards, who could
testify to his integrity, and stop the mouths of enemies and false accusers,
yet the loss annoyed him, and he was vexed with himself about the matter,
as he had designed them not so much for a proof of his own fidelity, as
for a pattern of exactness to others.

The news did not fail to reach Rome that he was coming up the river.
All the magistrates, the priests, and the whole senate, with great part
of the people, went out to meet him; both the banks of the Tiber were covered
with people; so that his entrance was in solemnity and honour not inferior
to a triumph. But it was thought somewhat strange, and looked like willfulness
and pride, that when the consuls and praetors appeared, he did not disembark
nor stay to salute them, but rowed up the stream in a royal galley of six
banks of oars, and stopped not till he brought his vessels to the dock.
However, when the money was carried through the streets, the people much
wondered at the vast quantity of it, and the senate being assembled, decreed
him in honourable terms an extraordinary praetorship, and also the privilege
of appearing at the public spectacles in a robe faced with purple. Cato
declined all these honours, but declaring what diligence and fidelity he
had found in Nicias, the steward of Ptolemy, he requested the senate to
give him his freedom.

Philippus, the father of Marcia, was that year consul, and the
authority and power of the office rested in a manner in Cato; for the other
consul paid him no less regard for his virtue's sake than Philippus did
on account of the connection between them. And Cicero, now being returned
from his banishment, into which he was driven by Clodius, and having again
obtained great credit among the people, went, in the absence of Clodius,
and by force took away the records of his tribuneship, which had been laid
up in the capitol. Hereupon the senate was assembled and Clodius complained
of Cicero, who answered, that Clodius was never legally tribune, and therefore
whatever he had done was void, and of no authority. But Cato interrupted
him while he spoke, and at last standing up said, that indeed he in no
way justified or approved of Clodius's proceedings: but if they questioned
the validity of what had been done in his tribuneship, they might also
question what himself had done at Cyprus, for the expedition was unlawful,
if he that sent him had no lawful authority: for himself, he thought Clodius
was legally made tribune, who, by permission of the law, was from a patrician
adopted into a plebeian family; if he had done ill in his office, he ought
to be called to account for it; but the authority of the magistracy ought
not to suffer for the faults of the magistrate. Cicero took this ill, and
for a long time discontinued his friendship with Cato; but they were afterwards
reconciled.

Pompey and Crassus, by agreement with Caesar, who crossed the Alps
to see them, had formed a design, that they two should stand to be chosen
consuls a second time, and when they should be in their office, they would
continue to Caesar his government for five years more, and take to themselves
the greatest provinces, with armies and money to maintain them. This seemed
a plain conspiracy to subvert the constitution and parcel out the empire.
Several men of high character had intended to stand to be consuls that
year, but upon the appearance of these great competitors, they all desisted,
except only Lucius Domitius, who had married Porcia, the sister of Cato,
and was by him persuaded to stand it out, and not abandon such an undertaking,
which, he said, was not merely to gain the consulship, but to save the
liberty of Rome. In the meantime, it was the common topic among the more
prudent part of the citizens, that they ought not to suffer the power of
Pompey and Crassus to be united, which would then be carried beyond all
bounds, and become dangerous to the state; that therefore one of them must